Euphoria
by Damien Red
Summary: I wanted him to be a part of my sick and twisted game, but who already knew he would be a part of one?  Stan x Gary rated M for prostitution, sexual content, language, and overall gayness...Summary Sucks...I know...
1. Chapter 1

**I wanted him to be a part of my sick and twisted game, but who knew that he was already a part of one? Stary (Stan and Gary) Rated M for sexual themes, language, and prostitution.**

_**EUPHORIA**_

_Chapter One: "All Around Me"_

THE BLOOD was so beautiful, a dark crimson, gleaming in the dim light from my lamp. My blond hair fell in front of my eyes. I ruffled it out after the shower, not bothering to brush it out. I felt no need whilst I sat here alone. The first time I cut myself and watched the little droplets of blood gather into a thick line, I cringed, being a mere twelve-year-old then. However, it posed a great fascination to me, and by the time this ended, I was grinning maniacally, I could only guess, and I felt like I had gotten high for the first time. I craved this euphoria, so I slit my wrists over and over….now, being fourteen-years-old, I'm beginning to deem the action childish. I have tried smoking weed, but it doesn't give me the same feeling as a sharp-edged razor slowly slitting the skin in my wrist, not reaching far enough to sever a vein. I shiver as I do, feeling the lightness drift into me and spread throughout my entire body; I become light-headed and weak, reaching a new peak of arousal, and I begin to rub my erection through my pants gently, biting my lips as to be careful not to let out any loud moans. My siblings were retiring to bed, but I asked my parents if I could stay up longer to study.

I could almost hear the blood coursing through my body, as if a current from a rapidly flowing river pulled me below the surface. My heart beat quickly, as I rubbed my erection harder through my pants. I heard someone pass my door, so I stopped for a moment, sitting in complete silence before continuing. As I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, rubbing the head of it gently, I involuntarily conjured up images in my mind. A certain black-haired boy came to mind with fluorescent, breath-taking blue eyes. My eyes slowly closed, short strands of unruly blond hair hanging in front of my eyes. I licked my lips in anticipation, feeling around my bed for my I-pod. Once I got a hold of it, I plugged the cushioned black earphones in my ears and scrolled down my list of music until I heard the familiar tune: "All Around Me" by Flyleaf fill my ears. Thinking it was perfect for the occasion, I let myself drown in my dreams. There was a beautiful field of wild flowers, standing out in various colours—blue, purple, red, yellow, and white. There he sat, his legs tucked beneath him, his arm gripping a tuft of grass in front of him. Long shiny wings extended out from his back, but not as breath taking as his lean, muscular torso and still slightly childish face. His eyes gazed up at me with a certain curiosity as I stroked the cold blade gently across his face. I felt him gasp as I cut a straight line across his cheek. The blood trickled from the wound, more lovely on him than anyone. Of course, I didn't want to ruin that pretty face of his, but I wanted him, in that sick and twisted way; I wanted to lock him up and keep him as a pet, to caress him and give him an innumerable amount of kisses, but also give him a million cuts all over his body. Stan Marsh… we were never good friends, but I always loved him, although I hid it well. After that little mishap with our religions, we separated and never really spoke again, but lately I have became more and more obsessed with him, especially when puberty hit and my sadistic curiosity came out.

_Allow me to touch you…,_I whispered to myself. I wanted to breathe him, for his very being to spread out around me like the atmosphere around the earth. Without realising it, I began singing: _My hands are searching for you. My arms are outstretched towards you. I feel you on my fingertips. My tongue dances behind my lips for you…_ My eyes fluttered open and closed again. They felt heavy and my body felt lighter. As I drifted off into sleep, I sang the words: _I can feel you all around me, thickening the air I'm breathing. Holding onto what I'm feeling, savouring this heart that's… _I also ejaculated just then, just before I drifted off into sweet dreams filled with his voice.

WHEN I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING, the first thing I do is get up and brush my teeth, but today I strip off my clothing and jump in the shower. It being the beginning of freshmen year, the sun shines through the blinds at about seven o'clock every morning, my automatic alarm clock until the clock changes again. This would be as tiresome as last year's first day, but I was sort of excited. I tried my hardest to dissemble that, but my mother saw it clear on my face and smiled.

"Why, good morning Gary. Why don't you have some breakfast?" she asks me sweetly. My 11-year-old sister comes down stairs all ready to go. She must have awakened early again to shower and dress, for she was always excited about school. My other siblings ran down the step, laughing and talking of the adventures to come. My brother grinned madly over his new buzz cut; I swear I had to literally kick him out of the bathroom to piss yesterday morning because he kept standing in front of the mirror to admire it.

"Good morning Mom, Dad…," I respond mildly, grabbing a piece of toast and butter along with my lunch bag. Before I could make it out the door, my mother grabbed me and put a kiss to my cheek, wishing me good luck in high school. My bus arrived earlier than my siblings because South Park High was all the way across the town. It held a total of 1,258 students from South Park, some Middle Park inhabitants, and about 50 students from an orphanage just outside of South Park so; it was a large school with four floors and three staircases on the first floor. I walked about a mile to the bus stop, where I saw Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny waiting on a wooden bench. Kenny lit up a cigarette and took a drag, passing it down the line to each one of his friends. Kyle was the first to see me, looking over his shoulder and giving me a surprised look. I know I haven't taken the bus since elementary school, but I don't think anyone should be that shocked to see me here.

"Gary, right?" Kyle asks uncertainly, causing the other three to look over at me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Cartman in his nasally voice, giving me a strange smile.

"Taking the bus?" I answer, scratching the back of my head, focusing on Stan out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh, a eepy or du," Kenny mumbles through his hood, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and smashing it with the edge of his heel. He earned a quizzical look from me; I haven't quite learned to understand Kenny's incoherent speech. Taking off his hood, he tried again, "Oh, that weird Mormon dude…" I frowned slightly, thinking, _this is what people know me as, huh?_ Kyle nudged Kenny with a grueling expression on his face. A smile played at my lips and I crouched to my knees, seeing as there was no more room on the bench. Now that I was here, it was rather silent, but I almost appreciated it. After several minutes, a yellow bus, caked in ice and dirt pulled up to the curb. All five of us entered the bus, the door almost smashing Cartman's face as he entered. Kyle gave an amuse laugh, causing an outbreak of the normal arguments between the two idiots. Yes, that's what they were…idiots—and we drove off, the insane bus driver speeding down the street at, like, seventy miles an hour.

**A/N: I know this kinda sucks, but please Read & Review. I love reviews, for they keep me going. I got this idea off of a page from a smackjeeves comic called South Park Huzza! If you check out the site () make sure you search for it and look for the page "Stan's a Whoe"…I about fell out of my chair…Also, there is no stories with as the main character…*sniffle***


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it has been awhile, but my PC has been having issues. I just got a new one a few days ago, so I'm really happy. Enjoy this chapter. There is going to be a major plot twist in the future. I'll take guesses. After reading this chapter, put your guesses in the reviews if you want…(If you are to review. I hope you do because reviews are FOOD!)**

**To Quite_Rightly…Yeah. Your review threw me off with its bluntness, but I sat there laughing for about fifteen minutes. Thank you for this. P.S. I am not certain if there is to be bloodsex in this fic or not. Only time will tell. I will also give some insight on what Gary thinks of his religion in this story…I personally, am non-theistic…but I do think I have a somewhat spiritual connection with world even if I don't think I believe in God.**

Chapter Two: "I'm So Sick"

I think I slept on the bus ride to school, but the time just passes by like the rival cars on RALLY X Arrangement. The bus finally stopped, everyone jerked forward when Ms. Crabtree quit her maniacal speeding only to slam on the breaks really hard. My head hit the chair in front of me, neck snapping to the side, much to Craig's amusement who sat across from me. When I gave him a glare, he just flipped me off, face losing all expression. Grabbing the twitchy kid next to him by the arm, he left the bus without a word. Stan, Kenny, Kyle, and Cartman passed silently through the aisle. I stared at Stan longingly, long enough to catch a seething glare from Kyle.

I was the last to get off the bus, almost earning the pleasure of having the two doors slamming against me on my way out. I jumped off the second step and made my trek to the school entrance. Two girls, Wendy and Bebe, I recalled stood next to a red-haired girl and a boy I remembered vaguely as Thomas. He bit his lip, his face scrunched up as if in attempt to hold something in. At this time, I didn't know he had Tourette's syndrome. When I reached the entrance of the west building, I silently decided to go to the library for the thirty minutes before first period after going to my locker. My shoes clicked against the tile floors of the school, polished and fixed—much nicer than South Park Elementary school's flooring. None of the rooms had carpet, much to my disappointment because I hated the clicking or clanking of shoes against the floors of the classrooms. Since I was an 'obedient and quiet child', I never complained about such trivial things. We had the privilege of chewing gum in class, a good distraction from the scratching of pencils and pens…and the oh-so annoying footsteps and grinding of pencil sharpeners.

My locker was near the main entrance of the school. The night before, I glued my new schedule for freshman year inside my planner, my combination written in neat, careful print on the same page.

"Shit!" I mutter when my attempt to open locker failed. I kicked it, creating a noticeable dent on the door. I looked around frantically to see if any teachers noticed. Giving out a sigh of relief, I tried again, my locker swinging open, hitting my face. I heard a low chuckle behind me. When I turned around, I saw Craig standing above me, eyes glinting mischievously at me. My eyes trailed behind me to my things spilling out of my open backpack. Great…the zipper broke—again.

"What's this?" he asked mildly, snickering when he picked up a small metal razor from the ground. He brought it up directly under the fluorescent lights above us, causing the shiny metal to give off a wonderful gleam. "Beautiful…isn't it? Can I take a guess?"

"Take a guess at what?" I snapped, earning another humoured smirk.

"You cut. You dream of cutting others. You are a masochist and a sadist. There isn't any need to worry because…" He pushes me up against my locker, his knee pressed against my crotch, rubbing it gently. "—I am as well. If you need someone to play games with, I'm always here." I held in a gasp when he licked my cheek. Until then, I didn't notice that he'd stealthily scratched my cheek with the razor. When he handed it back to me, I noticed little traces of blood. As he walked away, he called back, "Oh…by the way, Stan's straight." His shoes made a clicking noise as he continued on, his steps echoing in my ears. I threw the razor in my locker and slammed it shut, taking my planner and two pencils with me. My body shook with shock, but I was snapped out of it when I heard Bebe and Wendy pointing and laughing at me. Suddenly, I noticed the throbbing in my crotch area as well as a prominent erection pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Great…this day is starting off wonderfully. Could it continue like this?

/

After taking five minutes to jerk off in the bathroom, I raced to the library, noticing I now had half the amount of time I intended to spend there. Entering the library, I saw seven people besides me, occupying themselves with reading or in Clyde and some other kid's case, throwing spitballs at the back of Butters' head. He shrieked in exasperation, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at the back at the hysterical pair. Stan and Kyle were also in here, thumbing through the new selection of literature the faculty had so generously put together over the summer. Being a newly acclaimed 'small fry', I thought this a welcoming treat to high school, although I was aware that high school wasn't such an inviting place. After searching through various titles, I found the book I was looking for—Nathaniel Hawthorne's _Scarlet Letter_, when I bumped into Stan.

"….Hey, Gary," Stan greeted mildly, turning his attention back to the shelf before him. Kyle scowled, his head turned slightly sideways away from Stan and me.

"Hey," I responded, coolly, thoughts racing through my head at the speed of light, flying past me before I could process them. I tied a jacket around my waist, lest I should get another boner…last thing we need.

"We need to go see the English teacher, remember?" Kyle said to Stan, nudging him in the shoulder. Stan nodded his head and took Kyle by the hand, waving as he walked out of the library. Kyle did something very illogical—groped my ass and then flipped me off with a grimace. A blush crept to my cheeks, but I suppressed my urges as much as I could.

"What the hell…?" I cursed under my breath, taking my book up to the checkout counter. She asked for my student I.D, which the teachers issued to us on the day we received our schedules. There was a mass crowding for picture-taking, so the schedules, briefing, and second-time school tour took about seven hours. My parents were pissed, like, really pissed. My mother impatiently tapped her foot with each click of the camera. When my sister and I finally made it up to the next four, Mom began to relax and Dad went off to the restroom. The youngest ones in our family cried and stamped their feet as if they were Indians chanting at some strange ritual or just a little kid who wasn't allowed to have any ice cream, thus throwing a temper tantrum. My older sister and I, bored to death, went along with procession without complaint, silently rejoicing when we arrived home at seven o'clock in the evening. It may have been an hour earlier if Dad hadn't just said "CONFOUND IT" and made us eat in the cafeteria with most of the other families.

I thanked the lady and made my way to my first class—Orchestra. I wish I had picked up the clarinet or something so I could at least be in band. I did not want to fall asleep playing second violin in the middle of a concert with a bazillion people there. Band was at least lively and it kept me awake for ALL of the class.

/

After orchestra, German, and P.E, I made my way to the commons to eat lunch. I was sulking to myself that I had no one to sit with until Clyde and Token suddenly linked arms with me and asked, "Wanna sit with us?" I tensed up for a moment before answering, "Sure…uh…Token and Clyde, right?" Silently and desperately, I hoped to God that they wouldn't realize how foolish I sounded. You could say that although I was good at expressing how I felt, I wasn't good with this introduction, name-thing, picking out friends shit. I felt it better for people to come along and pick me, and sometimes this wasn't the greatest idea. God…I hope everything will turn out all right.

**I know I kind of left this chapter hanging, and it's sort of boring, but I hope you read it for the funny tid-bits. I found this chapter enjoyable. And please remember—Reviews are FOOD. People who at least read the beginning of the first volume of **_**Parasyte**_** by Hitoshi Iwaaki should know where this reference comes from…:D **


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, please don't be pissed…the delay for this chapter went from lack of inspiration, to vacation where I had to no computer, to mapping out the third chapter and a broken keyboard, to accidentally deleting the third chapter…Ah…you get my point. Thank you to all your reviews :) I will take time to respond to them later, maybe a PM or something like that, but for now—ON WITH THE STORY…And I apologize for the delay… Oh, btw, pairs are subject to change…There is to be a definite plot twist in the future. :D Oh…and I am going to try to make Gary a little more humorous as the narrator…that means more humor, but not less cynicism…therefore, I'm really just experimenting with his character right now. **

_Chapter 3: "Again"_

When people in South Park switched "groups" or added new "members", it really isn't such a peculiar thing, except if two very distinct groups take someone else under their wing or suddenly disband—Craig's posse, consisting of: Craig, Clyde, Token, the occasional Tweek Tweek (with those time lapses where he avoids Craig and the rest all together or hangs around them all the time), and very rarely Butters. Then there was Stan's group, consisting of: Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman, and again— very rarely Butters. When I entered the lunchroom with Craig, Token, and Clyde—Clyde's arm hanging shamelessly around my shoulder, everyone paused for a moment, as if time had stopped, and stared incredulously at me. I tensed under everyone's scrutinizing gazes, scrutiny being something I absolutely despised, especially when done as it normally was—judgingly, scornfully, disbelievingly. Craig bit back an obviously amused laugh and I suddenly felt like kicking him until he shat his pants. I must've had an odd expression on my face because Token took one look at me and chuckled aloud, causing my cheeks to bloom roses of a deep red.

"They're staring…," I thought aloud, my voice almost inaudible when I spoke. Craig furrowed his eyebrows and put his hand on my other shoulder. I think I'm claustrophobic. Clyde took note of me shifting uncomfortably and removed his hand from my shoulder, distracted by the smell of tacos (it was Mexican food day at school); his hand slid gently down my arm, fingers idling at the cuff of my shirt sleeve. Why does my day have to be filled with good-looking boy awkwardness? Yes, I just stated that Craig, Stan, Kyle, and Clyde were good-looking. If I had to pick the finest of the four, it would be (without a doubt) Stan, no contest, and secondly, Clyde. I think it was more that jubilant expression in those deep chocolate brown eyes and the copper freckles dotting his full cheeks that swayed me. With Stan, it was fairly obvious. Craig came third, having that deeply mysterious look topped off with deep blue eyes and hard angular features. His character was one of intuitiveness and sarcasm with general contentment (with a possibly dark undertone), and that gleam of wistful boredom in his eyes. Kyle was beautiful, but something about him generally irked me in every way—rather, his constant mood swings and passionate anger turned me off. We could never get along…not even if hell turned to solid ice. I chuckled as I thought of this.

"Bah, don't worry about them," Craig said, his monotone voice having that strange inkling of gentleness. I nodded my head as we headed off to the lunch line. Token, standing at the front, picked up four trays, grabbing one for him, passing the rest down for the each of us. I felt a sliver of loneliness, remembering how I watched them last year do this every day in line last year at South Park Middle School. It was now a thing of automaticity among them, and I felt practically honored that I was included in this little habit. My feelings about this were some sort of strange contradiction, proud but lonely, whole, but unfulfilled? Can someone please explain to me what I'm feeling? I don't socialize particularly well, and as I said before, friends weren't always the best thing for me. But I'm glad to have someone that would give me the time of day without me having to say or do anything…but…something feels weird about it. Conflicting. A tinge of fear, perhaps. But why?

I scooped up some liquefied half-frozen strawberries and poured them in a little space on my tray. Then, I took a burrito wrapped in tinfoil and paid for my lunch, the lunch lady not even acknowledging me when I passed. I found this irritating, but didn't really say anything.

"Come one!" Clyde exclaimed, beckoning me to follow with his arm, wearing a cute, but really idiotic grin. Hesitantly, I shuffled after him, biting my lip and trying to avoid all the curious stares. Stan gazed at me curiously and Kyle with an irritated expression. Jealous? No, you really shouldn't be. I fought the urge to childishly stick out my tongue at the both of them (mainly Kyle). Right when I was about to die from all the blood rushing to my face from those cerulean eyes gazing at me, Kyle saved me with those fiery greens. I quickly continued on, plopping down next to Token and Clyde.

Lunch was basically uneventful, awkward, but surprisingly nice—Clyde smacking on his taco (loudly) with a familiar look of bliss across his features. Craig just ate, disinterested in everything else along with Token. After a few minutes, Token and Craig started to converse a bit, completely ignoring me and Clyde, although Craig glanced at me once and while. After the bell rang, I headed off to Science, another rather uneventful period, then history, and then English, which I shared with Kyle, Stan, Craig and Clyde. I felt hot laser beams from those emerald green eyes boring a hole in the back of my head throughout the entire class period…Yeah, Kyle Broflovski sits behind me…brilliant, eh? After the class ended and everyone left the classroom, Kyle and I were the only ones left, still packing our things. Ah…shit…

"Hey, Gary?" he asked, anticipation filling his voice. I turned nervously to face him. Please tell me hell didn't turn to solid ice…

"I know you like Stan." His tone was serious, protective, and downright jealous. His voice was dripping molasses, each emotion oozing from every syllable. I shuddered at the sound of his voice.

"What about it?" I asked, surprisingly bold. I instantly regretted it.

"I'm watching out for you, Gary," Kyle said, smirking. The smirk quickly replaced itself with a deadpan look, letting me know that he was absolutely serious.

"If you like him too, you know…I have no chance with any guy and don't have the guts to approach someone like Stan…so…," I rambled, stopping when I noticed he left the classroom. The lights were out and I stood in the empty room all alone, dread filling my lungs. I gulped and felt sweat running down my neck. Why am I afraid? Who am I kidding? I walked out of the classroom and down the mostly empty hallway, thinking of the song 'Again' by Flyleaf. _Here you are down on your knees again, trying to fight it to breathe again! And only surrender will help you now…I love you; please see and believe again…_ For some reason, I am particularly drawn to Flyleaf, but this particular song? Now? God…why am I asking so many damn questions of myself today? When I made it to my locker, Craig was leaning up against it nonchalantly. I stared up at him in disbelief.

"You know, we just missed the bus," he said flatly, casting me an amused smirk. My mouth parted slightly in confusion. Craig stepped out of my way. I twisted my combination lock and opened my locker without saying a word. He sighed and stood over me, causing a creepy shiver to go down my back.

"You didn't have to wait for me. Why didn't you just take the bus?" I asked, gritting my teeth. Craig was so amused, that I could almost hear him smirk. All the attention I was getting today dragged me six feet under. "Damn…my mom's gonna be pissed…,"I muttered under my breath as I shut my locker door.

"I didn't want to. Token and Clyde are waiting outside, so let's get a move on," he said, helping me slide my books into my bag. Bloody hell… I slipped my razor into my front pocket and followed Craig out of the school.

"Why are they waiting?" I asked. Then I groaned, remembering how we needed to get to the other side of town.

"Clyde's mom is waiting outside. She can give us a ride," he told me. With this, I face-palmed, still imagining how angry my mother would be once I got home. A series of yells and oh, I don't know what else. I had no excuse to be home late, seeing as I had to extracurricular activities. My siblings, as far as I know, are probably meeting some friends after school today as they always do.

Token and Clyde waved to us from the parking lot next to a green beat-up minivan. Everyone clambered into the vehicle (Clyde in the front, of course), and I hesitantly climbed in, sitting next to Token once again. After a few moments, we headed off to the other side of town.

**Uh…I will definitely try to get another chapter in by this week because of how long this story has been on hiatus…Again, I apologize for the delay. One review response I would like to do now goes to Nemo1934. :) I really appreciated your review, and I was going to mention that later…Yes, my portrait of Gary's family was NOT going to be how South Park portrayed it on the episode "All About Mormons"…and thank you for your encouragement! I do admit, I was a little discouraged about how this story will turn out because this is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to write, but I am looking forward to it myself. After the next two chapters, the story will definitely start picking up in pace, so I hope that you guys have the patience to bear with me…eh… Again, thank you to everyone else for your reviews and for the Story Alerts, and I will try my best not to disappoint you. FINAL NOTE: Again, pairings and Point of Views are subject to change throughout the story…and Gary will not always be depressed and in lalala land…His emotions swing like everyone else's as you have seen in the second chapter and in this one. Also, because of where my mind is right now, writing chapters with the atmosphere of the first one when needed are going to be a little more difficult…Uh, I was sort of a depressed masochist myself at that time…still sort of a masochist, but not too depressed anymore :D This author's note is a getting a little to lengthy, so I will just leave it at that for now. :P **


End file.
